As the Locust hijackers pulled themselves onto the tank, Rikter drove the scorcher into the base of a Drone's skull and proceeded to fry it's brains quite literally. All of the sudden, Rikter found himself in tense situation as a Grappler bolted up his right flank and tackled him out of the hatch and onto the front section of the hull.

Nila glanced over noticing that the turret seat was empty and promptly pieced together what had just happened. "Shit! Mac, stop! We need to get outside now!" Nila ordered as she crawled towards the gunner's seat.

Before she could reach the hatch, a drone dropped into the tank and within seconds flat Malvo had the grub on the floor screaming as he sawed it's arm off. Seph put a few rounds in the drone's knees just for shits and giggles as Malvo's blood fountain spewed across all other passengers.

"Aye, keep at it boys! Mac, with me!" Nila yelled, blood being strewn across her face and armor, as she climbed out of the tank.

Five more grapplers attempted to board - three on the right and two on the left - not counting the one Rikter was dealing with. Nila took to the right side of the tank, planting her boot into the nearest drone's face forcing it off the tank as she fired her Lancer at the one second closest to her. The third Grappler on her side, pulled his Boltok Pistol on her and attempted fire as she slung her chainsaw bayonet across it's right hand. The bullet narrowly missed her head as the drone's hand fell onto the tank, Nila inched down and picked up the Boltok and put a round in the freshly-amputated drone's neck. Nila let out an excited chuckle as the bullet practically decapitated the creature. She then fired another shot down into the heart of the one she had booted off earlier before deciding to pocket the revolver.

Jaden craned his head around, ignoring Seph's pleading to stop the tank, looking to Farris for approval. The instant she gave the word, the Centaur came to an sudden and screeching halt and the Cpl quickly set the parking brake. Hearing the sound of a boarding grub behind him, blood splattered on the back of Jaden's head, accompanied by the sound of a chainsaw before the Cpl could even turn to see what the hell happened.

The situation barely registered before the Staff Sergeant's voice rang over the sounds of battle "Mac, with me!"

Don't have to tell me twice, anything to get me out of this fucking driver's seat.

Mac began to climb through the hatch behind Nila, glancing up he saw the grimy, dirt covered hand of a Locust reaching out to grab her from behind. One command rang through Mac's mind. The LT had told him to take care of Farris, and do whatever she needed.

In an instant Mac leveled his Gnasher, one hand clinging to the ladder-rung leading out of the hatch, he fired his shotgun upwards, damn near deafening the tank's occupants. But the shot rung home, pellets shredding the grub's forearm in half. Mac jumped the last few rungs of the ladder, passing the shotgun to his left hand and grabbing his bayonet from its holster, using his upward momentum to stab the blade upward through the offending Locust's jaw.

He could feel the blade sink through the tissue and into the brain, but had little time to bask in his minor victory, the next grub already had Mac in it's sights; the Cpl quickly positioned his kill between him and the enemy's Hammerburst, feeling the shots connect with his newfound meatshield. Mac withdrew his bayonet and kicked the cadaver at his next victim. The attacker fumbled, not knowing whether to catch the corpse or sidestep it, deciding a half second too late that it would evade. It stepped straight into Mac's left hook, the lever of the Gnasher slamming into it's teeth, shattering them like porceline. Mac cocked the shotgun one handed, pressing the barrel to the grub's head before it had even finished recoiling.

"Check my two piece." Jaden slammed the trigger back, and in one glorious shot the grub's head exploding like a ball of blood and bone confetti.

In the few remaining moments that the two had left on the front hood of the tank, the Locust and the Gear enjoyed a particular bloody exchange of fists and blood. It was actually quite gentleman-like. Rikter was on top, he took a swing; then the Grub was on top, and it took a swing. This went back and forth right up until the point where the Centaur went from charging at full speed to a complete and sudden halt.

The momentum caused the two to go flying forward above the battle field, and even in their aerial state of locomotion, Rikter and the Locust were trying to beat the shit out of each other -- flipping and spinning over each other and attempting to get a grip on their enemy. However, the only real thing that Rikter managed to pull off was to slam his hand down onto the Grub's back.

Hitting the ground at the speed of a Centaur at full charge was unarguably painful and worth about as many punches that the two had managed to land on each other all added together and then times five.

"Fuck!" Rikter managed to shout out as he hit the ground rolling. The Grub said something in its own alien language and rolled quite a bit farther ahead than Rikter did.

By the time that Rikter's momentum stopped grinding him into the dirt, another group of Locust were approaching their fallen comrade. Rikter managed to push himself slightly off the ground to look up at the enemy. Four or five of them in all, including the one that had flown off of the tank with Rikter. It stood up before Rikter could and angrily took one of its comrades weapons before turning it back on Rikter. The creature barked out some order that Rikter took as an order for him to stand up.

"Argh..." Rikter grunted in pain as he pushed himself fully off the ground and stood upright. He had the thought that he might've broken a rib or two. The Gear took a look at the group of Locust in front of him, then he leisurely turned around and began to walk away.

"SCAAAAGH!" the Grappler shouted out towards Rikter. Rikter assumed that it was currently taking aim with its weapon.

*BEEP**BEEP**BEEP*

The explosion came from the Grub's back violently and spectacularly -- destroying it and the Locust around it completely.

Rikter continued to make his way back towards the Centaur and, presumably, his Scorcher that he had lost in the tussle -- casually wiping off the dirt and mud from his tinted goggles. "Damn," Rikter said as the gore and blood of his former foe fell onto the ground around him. He calmly listened to the soft sounds of the six remaining grenades clinking against the back of the armor.

The staff sergeant leaped off of the Centaur, nearly slipping on a roasted pile of gore, and sprinted over to Rikter. Firing away at the remaining Locust with her Boltok Pistol, she took out one of her bolo grenades and rocketed it straight down the E-hole blocking their path. As the explosion erupted from tunnel, she placed her free hand on Rikter's back and shoved him towards the tank where Jaden was waiting to help them back aboard.

"C'mon, ya bloody savages! Come an' get a taste of me!" Nila shouted as another Reaver dropped down in front of her.

Before the gunner could even line up a shot on Nila, Alex managed to fire a Longshot round precisely through it's skull. As it slumped over and fell off the Reaver, Nila grinned devilishly and unloaded the rest of her Boltok into the pilot - causing the drone's entire torso to be completely obliterated - before hauling ass back to the tank.

She then grabbed onto Mac's hand as he hoisted her up and aboard, and with an approving nod, she kindly commended him for his earlier action, "Thank you, Mac. Just might not have made it without you here."

Slipping back into the tank through the open hatch above, Nila looked up at Sgt. Rikter, who seemed to be relishing in the smell of the burning grub-meat, and said, "That was some championship thrashball-level entertainment back there, Rikter."

Waylan finished off the Reaver and the remaining locust with the chain gun and called Nila over the comm just as she getting back into the driver seat, "Nila, status report!"

"We're all good, Waylan. Don't worry, Rikter's still alive and kicking... probably harder than usual and Mac made it back in one piece too," Nila responded wiping some blood off of her face as she started up the Centaur.

"Good to hear. Won't be much longer until we hit Landown," Waylan replied.

"Understood," Nila said, before peering back into the cabin and noticing Malvo and Seph prodding at the dead grappler from earlier with the barrel of their Lancers. "I swear you guys are children."

Jaden shifted to the back seat, knowing Seph and one of the others could handle gun-loading duties. He detached his face mask and took a few deep breaths of the stale air. Driving the Centaur had taken alot out of him. He had never drove before.

Hell. He had never loaded the main gun before. MacNamara looked down at the palm of his left hand. The glove he was wearing was singed and he had disgusting burn marks on his palm. They didn't hurt. The Corporal cursed to himself as he realized he had burnt his hand while reloading the gun, and the nerves were damaged.

He shook his head and wiped sweat from his brow. First loading the gun, then driving the tank, then the stunt with the grenade. Farris had commended him for watching her back, but all he could think of were all the ways he had nearly gotten someone killed today.

Hopefully something, anything, would happen some to get him out of this tank and on his own two feet where he could actually do some good.

Moments later Omega-Two had finally arrived at Landown and were unnervingly greeted by the sound of RIG D77 exploding into bits from about two blocks over. Unfortunately, it appeared that the entire crew of "Lola" had been wiped out with the exception of one soldier, given the information Delta Squad relayed to the surrounding troops. "Omega-Two, be advised. Tickers in your area. I repeat, tickers in your area," the pilot informed the ground team. The LT quickly signaled the pilot to land and ordered Nila, Mac, and Rikter out of the tank. As the bird touched down, Rhodes eased off the edge and approached the team as Fillmore and York followed suit.

"Here's the drill, Omega," Lt. Rhodes gathered everyone's attention. "Delta's gonna be eating several shades of shit if don't help deal with this ticker problem. Odds are the little bastards will be itchin' for a chance to go big-badda-boom all over our precious little Centaur over there. Now, of course, we're not gonna let that happen, because Delta's gonna need that support until we can get to the cemetery. Alex and Raymond will be providing overwatch from the Raven. Meanwhile, Gallagher will patch up the Centaur while Seph and Malvo operate as Delta's support. So, that leaves the six of us are on ticker duty."

"Can't say I'm all too familiar with tickers, sir. How do they work?" Pvt. Fillmore asked.

"Tick-tick! Boom!" Nila replied, signing an explosion with her hands. "What's not to get?"

"Precisely," the lieutenant cocked his neck, "They're these little creepy crawlers with explosives strapped to their backs, so keep your damn eyes peeled for these fucking boot lickers and if you see 'em, aim for the glowing imulsion canisters above their heads."

"What if it gets too close while I'm reloading?" Fillmore queried.

"You ever punt a thrashball into outer space? Trust me, you'll learn how real fast when one runs up on ya." The LT replied.

"Yeah, but rolling can be pretty disorienting," Rhodes argued, "Hell, you could dive out of the way of just one only to end up face first in front of five more. Might want to just kick 'em into a pile instead, but how about we just make sure they don't get too close in general, okay?"

"Understood, sir." Fillmore replied.

"Good, now take York and get to work," Rhodes nodded and turned his attention to Mac and Rikter, "Status report, boys. How was the trip? You two get along?"

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As soon as Fillmore started getting an impromptu lesson on the inner workings of "shit blowing up is bad", Jaden looked for something more interesting to do than listen in on the explanation. At first, he looked to Rikter for conversation before immediately changing his mind. The Cpl. inched closer to York "So, us and Marilyn spend the last hour covering Delta's ass, and they get the guy who survives a Rig crash? Life ain't fair, Yorkie."

The private simply raised an eyebrow at Jaden, taking a thick drag from the cigarette hanging out of his mouth as the Corporal continued "Did you see Marilyn's driver pull over and save Delta's ass? We're doing all the work and they're getting all the damn glory."

When the LT was done with Fillmore, York moved to accompany his friend before Mac grabbed his shoulder, stopping him. Mac snatched the cigarette from York's mouth, grinding it out with his fingers. "I'll be damned if you blow yourself to shit by you setting off a ticker with this shit. You gotta deathwish, I'll tell the Sergeant you want to get tagged again."

York shot the Corporal his best "Fuck you" look as he went ahead with Fillmore. Rhodes turned his attention to Mac and Rikter, "Status report, boys. How was the trip? You two get along?"

Mac shrugged "Sunday drive, boss. Sarge won't laugh at my jokes, though. I think I hate him." If Jaden hadn't been wearing his gasmask, anyone would be able to see his grin as he drew his Gnasher.

Rikter stood there with the rest of the tank crew and simply looked over his equipment while the rookie was getting a ticker lesson - of course, being him, he was familiar with tickers. The sergeant's tongue rolled over his bloody gums and teeth, his mouth had been taking quite a bit of abuse today, as he turned his scorcher over in his hands to look for any damages that would make it useless. He tapped it against his leg a few times to shake away some dirt and gore.

Then, he noticed the corporal look at him briefly as if the man were about to start a conversation. Rikter turned his head towards the man to oblige. The sun glared off of his dark goggles, which somehow gave his character the effect of appearing even less human than he already acted. His eyebrows shrugged and Rikter returned to his scorcher when Jaden turned away and started talking to the private.

"Good, now take York and get to work," Rikter heard Rhodes say before the man approached him and Jaden, "Status report, boys. How was the trip? You two get along?"

Rikter then gave his CO a big, tooth, and bloody grin before saying, "Fan-fucking-tastic, El-Tee. Mac-Attack here really took care of my big gun the whole trip. I musta blown my load a thousand times thanks to him."

SSgt. Farris near-about fell over laughing at Rikter's response as Rhodes simply smirked and cocked his head toward the sergeant. For a split-second, Rhodes thought about commending the both of them for a medal for that joke alone, but decided against since he didn't to feel all full of themselves.

Catching a glimpse of Jaden's scorched left hand, the lieutenant halted the corporal, "Fuck, Rikter didn't burn you, did he? Wait, no, lemme guess, you fucked up on the cannon reload, didn't you?

Cpl. MacNamara shrugged affirmatively.

"Yeah, figures. Looks like it's gonna be bitch to shoot, but don't feel too bad, I've seen much worse."

"You talkin' about me?" SSgt. Farris chimed in.

"Huh, no, not those burns," Rhodes responded referring to the concealed scars on her upper back, "Remember that kid, Donnie, that lit up his entire squad in what he claimed to be a 'scorcher malfunction?' The top brass didn't take to kindly to that rook, I tell ya."

"Oh, yeah! Wasn't that complete bullshit, though! Didn't that kid just hate 'em because they were always fuckin with 'em in his sleep? I heard they placed dead heart leech on him once. Not sayin' the kid shoulda lit 'em on fire, but, damn, they were assholes. Me, I'd have just kicked all their asses," Nila replied.

"Farris, knowing you, you'd have forced fed 'em that dead heart leech," Rhodes strolled down the wintry road, his eyes focused on the blindspots of the two soldiers in front of him.

"Heh, yeah, that's sounds accurate," the Kashkuri warrior replied. Nila glanced back at Rikter and Jaden, "Say, you two ever get hazed back in boot camp? How'd ya handle it?"

"I think we can all take a guess on how Rikter handled it," the LT added.

"Yeah, but I still wanna hear," the staff sergeant replied. "C'mon, Mac, I hear you used to be Stranded? A lot of the COG can be right cunts to you Lifeboaters for absolutely no reason. I'm sure ya had a few problems startin' out, eh?"

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Jaden scoffed, kicking a bit of debris down the road as he walked "The guys I was trained with didn't really seem to give a damn at first. But the drill sergeant, he had it out for me. Anyone who didn't give me shit, he gave em hell. I was the only ex-stranded in the squad, only one they gave shit to."

Mac slipped his mask off, letting it hang from its strap around his neck so his voice could be unobstructed "I ever tell you some of the best men I met weren't even COG or Stranded? There was this Gorasni, some UIR prisoner of war who took the Open Arms program to join the Gears, right? Only guy who didn't try to beat the shit out of me or give me hell. Guess he thought we were alike or some shit."

"So we're in the showers, right? Me and the Gorasni always went first, tried to get out of there before someone came along and tried to give us shit. And here we are ass-naked when along comes the whole fucking platoon, ten other guys, and they start pushing me around and shit. Now, I'm buck ass naked with my thing hanging out, and these guys are still in full gear.

So along comes the UIR guy, he walks right up to one of the guys pushing me around and tells 'em to fuck off. And the guy is like 'what are you gonna do, Indy? I'm in full armor, you can't touch me!'. So guess what he does? He fucking takes a bite out of this guys face. Bites the dudes nose off, just... bites it off.

Everyone is freaking out, stumbling over each other, bloods pouring everywhere, and the fucking guy just spits the other dude's nose out and starts laughing. Dude was crazy. But after that, I started sticking up for myself, and we ended up fighting the guy and his friends right there in the showers."

"Naked?" Fillmore glanced back, his face plastered with disbelief.

"And covered in soap, man, do I look like I'd make this up? Anyway, its hard to lose when some schmucks are slipping and falling over in armor. I felt bruises from that fight for weeks, though."

"And what, you never got in any trouble?"

"What were they gonna do, go up to the Sarge and tell him a couple of outcasts beat their asses in the showers? Nah, man. Got off scot free. Dunno how the guy explained his nose, though."

York shook his head "Is any of this true?"

"Some of it. Hell, most of it. Shut up, 'smy story, I'll tell it how I want."

"Huh, fuck me, I met a Gear that was missing a chunk of his nose," Rhodes responded, his right hand instinctively grazing over the combat knife holstered above his left chest plate. "Guy told me a pack of wretches chewed it off during the Lightmass Offensive. Acted all big-shotty about it too and said he deep sixed about six platoons of Locust and killed a brumak solo. So, I guess now your story just confirms he was bullshitting everyone, not that I believed much of it in the first place."

"The Gorasni are fuckin' psychos, I tell ya," Nila glanced at Mac, "Me an' Waylan served with one of 'em during the Evacuation of Ilima. Crazy bastard near about went AWOL after witnessing that hotshot grub, RAAM, slaughter an entire street fulla fifty or so Gears. Can't say I didn't want revenge either, but me an' Waylan knew better than to charge headfirst into a bunch of Therons and an insane motherfucker that could control the Kryll. Can't tell ya how happy I was the day RAAM kicked the bucket along with all the Kryll. Started sleeping with just one eye open after that as opposed to two."

As the staff sergeant chattered on, Rhodes fixated his gaze on the broken remains of a nearby bed & breakfast with a faded sign outside that read: Kinnear Inn - The Most Peaceful House in Landown. Peering in through the window, Waylan scowled at the sight of several skeletons scattered around the dining room floor. The bones had clearly been stepped on and kicked aside over the years, but Rhodes couldn't take his eyes off the blood-stains seeped into the floor below a shattered remains of child-sized skull.

Catching a glimpse of what the LT was looking at, Pvt. Fillmore grimaced. For a brief moment, he imagined Clair and Celina on that floor and sharply shook his head in distress before meandering back over to Pvt. York, a soldier who seemed more annoyed by the loss of his cigarette than concerned about the state of his family back home.

SSgt. Farris, on the other hand, was still interested in hearing more about her team, "So how about you, Rikter? Anyone ever fuck with you back in basic?"

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The large man grinned and reached up to the scarred side of his face - letting his scorcher hang freely, gripping it by his other hand. He lightly touched his burned face. The memories flickered back to life almost as strongly as the fire that had caused the scar.

"Yeah, I've had my share of getting fucked around with," Rikter said, nodding. His hand fell back down to hold his scorcher at the ready again before he continued speaking.

"Hmm, I was maybe fifteen or sixteen, and, y'know, no one really messes with the big guy. Except for show-off punks." His grin widened before he went on, "So, this kid picks a fight with me. Like, outta nowhere. I don't even know his name, we're not in the same class. I think he was trying to show off to a girlfriend, but I don't remember. Long story short, I ended up cleaning the entire mess hall with his head."

"Ha, holy shit, Rikter!" Nila replied, fully expecting the story to end with something like that, but getting a kick out of it nonetheless. "Any repercussions from the staff?"

Rikter's grin then dropped from his face, and he pressed his lips together before answering, "No. I'd probably be a lot fucking prettier if I had at least been chewed out."

Rikter shook his head before going on, "The staff didn't care at all. The way they saw it, the little fucker literally asked for it. No, y'see, it was the kid took issue with my treating him like a human-mop and not even getting latrine duty for it," he spat out some blood that had been collecting in his mouth, "and I guess he was a goddamned psycho, too."

"The students at Halvo all got their own guns, grenades, and munitions after they passed a certain grade. Just to carry around and get used to the weight and such, right? They weren't supposed to be loaded all the time. The bullets were all blanks. The grenades, duds. And I had this game as a kid where I'd practice throwing grenades all day. Like, in really fuckin' different complex kinda ways. I swear to all holy fuck that I once bounced a Bolo off of eight different dummies. Like skippin' stones on a fuckin' pond.

"Anyway, I was serious about this game. So, I always activated the duds to make the signal sounds go off. And, I kid you fucking not, this kid sneaks into my class's barracks and tinkers with my shit. Turns one of my duds into a live fucking grenade."

Rikter stopped to take in a deep breath and shook his head as he exhaled. "Almost blew my goddamn head off," he continued. "Must've been stuck in a hospital bed for a month. The punk, though, he got what was comin' to him. Leigh and a couple of my other friends, by the time they got done with him, his face looked worse than mine." With that, the man's grin returned to his face and he continued walking on with the rest of the group.

Towards the end of the story Jaden's expression turned grim. When Rikter finished, Mac addressed him "So you nearly blow your head off with a supposed dud, but your idea of fun is tagging the privates?" Mac glared at him with a serious expression "What the actual fuck is wrong with you? Even animals learn. You're like a dog that's tasted blood, you'll just go after the first person you see."

Mac clenched his Gnasher in both hands, his burnt palm now silently screaming in pain, but he was so angry he didn't even acknowledge it. Before anyone could defuse the situation, Mac continued. "Know what Stranded do to dogs we can't train, Sarge? We strap grenades to them and use them for target practice."

Mac had to look up to glare at Rikter's face as they marched next to each other "You already look the part." Someone called Mac's name in a chastising voice, urging him to relax with their tone. "LT, I'm taking point. Sarge's face looks like a side of bacon and it's starting to make me hungry."

With that the Cpl. stormed ahead, aggressively shouldering his way past the privates mumbling to himself "Fuck you and your goggles, you prick."

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"Hey, fuckin' stop," Rhodes pressed his hand against Mac's makeshift COG armor, halting him just out of earshot of the others. "I get that you don't like the guy, Corporal, and, yeah, maybe he is a hypocrite with a bad sense of humor, but you gotta remember something: Out here, in the field, we hate grubs, not fellow Gears. If you gotta problem with someone, save it for when we get home, but don't you fucking make me call command just to tell them two of my best men just started grinding each other limbs off right out of blue."

Just as Mac opened his mouth to respond, the LT shut him down immediately, "Shut up, I don't wanna hear it. Like you said, you're on point. Get moving."

Following orders, Mac carried on ahead until he closed in next to Pvt. York, who then turned his head toward Mac and said, "Well fucking said back there, my friend. Rikter's a goddamned psychotic asshole. You on the other hand, I don't know jack shit about you, but so far you seem like the alright sort. So, in the spirit forgiveness, I'm willing to overlook that scumbag shit you did to my last smoke, so long as you watch my back from here on out, and I'm not just talking about keepin' an eye our boy Rikky back there, because I'm willing to bet the grubs role a little harder in the prank-department, if you know what I mean. So, man, what do you say? You watch my back, I watch yours. I throw a pack of smokes your way if that's your thing. Hell, maybe even find ya some nudie mags for when things get quiet. Whatever you need, I'm your man."

The corporal let a friendly smirk slip, stuck out his arm, and gave York a sick fucking knuckle bump hopefully symbolizing a new-found brotherhood between the two men.

"Dude makes friends with a guy that bites peoples' noses off, and I'm not cool for sticking duds on people?" Rikter responded as Jaden stormed off in a hurry.

"Those poor dogs..." Nila replied, imagining on a pet mutt she had during her childhood, but now with a little more kaboom to it. Upon processing what Rikter had said, the staff sergeant replied, "Well, for what's it worth, I thought the bolo prank was funny.

Mac's probably just bein' a pissant because your story trumped his." She teased, before switching to a more sincere tone, "Hey, Rikter, listen, I appreciate you tellin' me that story. Rhodes told me he knew what happened to you, but he's not really the type to share another man's secrets so I never got anything outta him. Say, now that you've told me how you got your scars, how's about I tell you what happened to my back, eh? I'm sure you've been wondering about my burns too and it's only fair that I tell you. So here it goes, sometime around the Lightmass Offensive, me an' waylan were off on orders to--"

TICK-TICK! BOOM!

An explosion erupted from within the inn, slamming Fillmore with a heavy wall of debris. Had he not been wearing his helmet, he'd have most assuredly taken fatal cranial damage, but in this case he only seemed mildly disoriented. "Tickers! Keep 'em away from Fillmore! Clear the area!" The lieutenant bellowed out to his team as the bewildered Gear attempted to regain his senses.

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MacNamara lifted his breath mask back to his face immediately after the explosion, on Lt. Rhodes order Mac leapt to action, assuming York would be right behind him. The Cpl rushed to Fillmore's side, punting a ticker away with all the force he could muster. When the insectoid bomb recovered, it scurried panickedly from side to side before splattering in a fleshy explosion.

"They get dizzy when you give em a good kick." Mac grunted as a flood of the kamikaze buggers came from the woodworks at the squad. The Cpl raised his Gnasher high, aiming down the barrel and emptying round after round of buckshot at the insects, detonating them before they could get any closer. Mac's hand worked the lever action with each shot, and on the last he spun the shotgun by the action, grabbing the barrel.

With a mighty swing, the Gear used his weapon as a golf club, slapping the gun against a ticker, sending it flying violently away before it collided with more, screeching before going out like so many fireworks. Jaden pulled his snubby from his waist, leveling it at the enemy and clicking off several shots "Thousands of dollars of weaponry, and I'd give it all up for a can of insecticide!"

As Mac, Rikter, and the rest of Omega-Two laid down suppressing fire and began clearing the area of tickers, the lieutenant hurried over to Fillmore's side. "On your feet, soldier! This ain't no place to be taking a dirt nap!" Waylan ordered, as he lifted Fillmore upright, wrapping the young soldier's left arm around his shoulder, and proceeded to steadily walk the wounded man back to the Kinnear Inn.

Briefly hesitating mid-transit to examine Fillmore's helmet, Waylan noticed Fillmore's left optical visor had been pierced by jagged piece of shrapnel, and that there was now blood was seeping out of the hole and trickling down his neck. Waylan quickly realized that Fillmore's injuries were far worse than he initially thought.

"Shit," Waylan whispered to himself as he rushed Fillmore into the Inn, "You're gonna be okay, Fillmore. Do you hear me? You're gonna be alright!"

"LT? I-is that you? Why can't... why can't I see you?" Fillmore asked, woozily swaying his head around trying to find the source of the voice as the lieutenant rested him low behind the front desk of the inn.

"It's your helmet, son. You took a real bad hit just now, but you're gonna be okay, you hear me?" The LT whipped his head around toward the entrance and yelled, "Medic! I need a goddamn medic over here!"

Upon hearing Waylan's requests, SSgt. Farris cursed under her breath before dishing out orders, "Everyone pull back to Kinnear Inn! Mac, Rikter, I want you boys on those windows popping off at every ticker you see! Keep your eyes out for E-Holes and warn us if you see anything worse than drones heading our way! York, make sure the locust don't have a way in! If you find a potential breach, seal it with something heavy! This place better be a goddamn fortress by the time we're done here!"

Mac moved to cover the LT as he hefted Fillmore up, reloading his Gnasher and scamming left to right for trouble. When it looked clear for just a moment, he afforded himself a glance at the wounded a Gear, and cursed audible "Fuck!", he could feel York look his way nervously.

On Nila's order, Mac took refuge in the inn, posting up on a window not far from Rikter, prepping his Lancer. "And our dedicated Medic is up in a fucking King Raven completely fucking useless to the rest of us."

The ground rumbled in a tell tale way, "E-hole!" Mac squeezed his trigger, causing two Tickers to blow their loads. He squinted through the dust and debris, looking for the Hole he felt open. After a moment, he saw a Drone come around a corner, and then noticed the edge of the hole just behind a building "Fuck me, no one could make that fucking throw, how are we supposed to--"

"I swear to fuck I once bounced a grenade off eight different fummies. Like skipping stones in a pond."

Mac glanced at Rikter, then the E-hole, then unleashed a burst of Lancer fire at the drone, enough to knock it over. He rushed to Rikter's side and grabbed his shoulder "Twenty bucks says you can't trick shot a Bolo into that E-hole!"

Rikter moved to take position with the rest of his squad in the inn - laying down suppressive flames and covering the squad with his scorcher as he fell back. He crouched behind the window on the other side of the door of the inn, parallel to Jaden's window. He as well took the first chance he got to look back at his wounded comrade.

"Ah, you fuckers..." Rikter muttered through gritted teeth. He stood and looked back out through the window. Hellflame sprayed out of his scorcher once more as he burned as many tickers that came in range as he could. "You fuckers!"

As the tickers roasted and popped like popcorn, Jaden shouted out, "E-hole!" Rikter just kept on firing the scorcher while the ground finished up its rumbling. He noticed the number of tickers dwindling down as well. There were only a few more lurking between the ruined cars and barricades - doing a terrible job at hiding their presence.

Suddenly, Jaden was by the sergeant's side with his hand on Rikter's shoulder. "Twenty bucks says you can't trick shot a Bolo into that E-hole!"

Rikter stopped firing his scorcher and placed it on the floor. He took sweet time turning his head towards Jaden. His eyes were hidden behind his goggles, but the grin on his face - so wide that there were teeth from ear to ear - was all the response that anyone needed.

"Deal," the man said as he took a step back and took one of the bolo grenades attached to his back. Rikter began to spin the grenade. As he spun, he switched his gaze periodically through a large hole in the roof and through the window in front of him. Slowly, he pulled out his snub nose, and after he had gotten himself prepared, he released the grenade.

It flew through the hole in the ceiling and high into the air. Rikter rushed back to the window and aimed his pistol. As the bolo came back down over the street, he fired twice. Both bullets struck a poorly hidden ticker just as the grenade was a few feet near it. The fleshy insect exploded and the force of the explosion launched the grenade back into the ally on the other side of the building where the E-hole was. Not a second later, another explosion was heard along with the death cry of a locust or two.

Vaulting over the front desk, SSgt. Farris moved into position to examine Pvt. Fillmore injuries, "Alright, Waylan, what am I looking at?"

"Farris? You here too? W-why can't see anyone?" Pvt. Fillmore asked, the shock of blast still affecting his sense of reality.

"Clearly, you see the shrapnel the jutting out of his left eye, right?" Waylan said, pointing at the hunk of metal.

"Sh-shrapnel?" Fillmore asked, curiously patting his hands around his helmet.

"Yeah, no shit, anything else?" Nila replied.

"All the damage seems to be focused around his head. Can't confirm how bad it is until we get that helmet off, but we can't remove it until we dig that metal of his eye," Waylan explained.

"Yeah, I noticed," SSgt. Farris. "Okay, I'm gon--"

"Omega-Two, this is KR Two-Seven. Delta has spotted Nemacysts in the area. We're gonna swing around to drop your off the rest of your team, and then we're pulling out until the threat is dealt with," the pilot informed the Lieutenant.

"Good, let Evans know I could use his help on this one. Inform him that I need a sterile pair of pliers," Nila replied. "In the meantime, you should get back to the team. I'll see wh--"

At that moment, Nila was interrupted by the frantic sounds of Fillmore's screaming as the pain finally hit the Gear like a bolt of lightning. His legs began kicking furiously as he started beating his right hand against the floorboards and gripped the end of the shrapnel tightly his left. "WHAT THE FUCK?! I'M FUCKING BLIND! GODDAMMIT, I'M GONNA FUCKING DIE OUT HERE!"

"Don't move! You're only gonna make it worse!" Nila ordered as she held Fillmore's arms down. "Waylan, get back to the team! I got this!"

"Understood," Waylan nodded, picked up his lancer, and moved into position between Mac and Rikter.Propping his lancer up on the window while scanning the horizon, he informed the Gears of the plan, "King Raven is about drop off Alex and Raymond. Make sure the rooks get in here alive. Afterwards, Nila and Raymond will patch up Fillmore and we'll be on our way. Now, hunker down, get ready, and keep an eye on our flanks. Any questions?"

The zone lit up with Drone activity as the King Raven hovered overhead. The lyrical chaos of Lancer rounds and Scorcher flame occassionally punctuated with a frenzied "Left side!" or "Right, right goddamnit!"

Mac afforded himself a risky glance over the dusty windowsill while he slammed a new magazine into his firearm. Instead of a dusty, decrepit battlefield, his eyes squinted against the glare of a sniper rifle "Fuck!" He shouted, unable to do more than slam his eyes shut when he heard the sound of a Longshot round.

A moment later he was very aware that he wasn't dead. He opened one eye then the other. Across the battlefield, the Raven had landed, with one of the rookies leaning against the frame of the chopper, using her knees as a bipod. Mac slid his head under cover before glancing again to confirm he saw what he thought he did.

He nervously raised a thumbs up over cover at the rookie, and she upturned the corner of her mouth in a grin he'd never get to see.

Rhodes waved the rooks over, and the two hustled across the zone towards the inn. The medic with the caduceus spray painted on his armor, was tackled by a Drone, who raised its Hammerburst up to smash his face in. Screaming bloody murder, Evans emptied an entire clip of Boltok rounds into the bastards face.

The kid cursed, unable to push the heavy grub off of his wiry frame. Alex stopped to pry him free, but it was clear it was no good, she was smaller than even he was.

Mac had been watching the situation closely, he looked to his right towards Rikter, who was mumbling to himself and taunting the Locust, then to his left, where he saw Rhodes' eyes flickering between the enemy and the rooks. Mac laid his on the LT's shoulder and spoke through his filter "I've got it, boss. Yorkie, cover me!"

Mac vaulted through the window, glass shattering around him. He bolted forward, tucking his chin into his chest to keep his head low, body bent over, making a beeline for Evans and Alex. Halfway there, he glanced up to see a Drone making the same move, sprinting forward, revving a Lancer.

"Fuck, fuck, fuck" Mac panted with each breath, skidding forward and pushing Alex over with his shoulder just in time to rev his own bayonet and and raise it against the grub. "GROUNDWALKER" the Drone spat. The saws sparked against each other and grinding, requiring all of his upper body strength to hold the duel.

"Hey kids," Mac grunted, grabbing his snub pistol and putting a round in the Locust's knee. With the pressure off, he pushed the enemy's bayonet away, head butting it with all the strength he could muster before swinging the saw against its left elbow, dismembering the creature after several tense seconds.

Mac wiped the gore and viscera from his face, offering Alex a hand back up "I'm your new best friend, Uncle Mac!"

Jaden kicked the grub corpse off Evans and he'd him to his feet "Now get running!" Mac ordered, following suit behind them as they sprinted the rest of the way to the Inn. Evans was immediately dragged over to Fillmore by a concerned York, and Mac slammed his back against his familiar cover, panting.

"Hey. Sniper kid," he exhaled. Alex glanced over with a raised eyebrow. "That was a good shot, by the way." Alex raised the corner of her lip into a smile and gave a thumbs up.

"Gotta agree with Mac on this, Alex, that was some fancy shooting. You're pretty good. Not quite as good as me, but, still, pretty good," Rhodes replied, giving Alex an almost fatherly pat on the back.

"Hell, you guys should be thanking my brothers. They're the ones that had me shooting snubs at eight. E-Day pressured a lot of us kids to grow up fast, I can assure you that," Alex responded, peering lowly over the window for any signs of hostiles.

"Yeah, I have no doubt. Pendulum Wars weren't easy on kids either, but they were never this bad," the lieutenant replied. "And for what it's worth, your brothers taught you well.

As Pvt. Evans began unloading his medical bag, Pvt. York motioned his way into the back room. The room was dimly lit by the light pouring in from the lobby, was trashed with empty food cans, tossed-aside paper, and stained bed sheets, and was mostly inhabited by the skeletal remains of the former guests. Setting aside the foul smell and horrible thoughts of what might have happened here, Pvt. York instead focused on a sound emanating from a bookshelf at the end of the room as he slowly crept up to it. Spotting a sliver of light seeping through a crack behind the bookcase, Pvt. York tilted his head and whispered, "What's this?"

"BOOM!" A brutish voice bellowed out from behind the wall.

"Shit!" York exclaimed, as he was greeted with a fiery blast, as the door behind the bookshelf exploded open and toppled the shelf onto the Gear. The hulking beast reloaded his weapon and began making his approach as York struggled to grab to his lancer that slid just out of reach all while profusely screaming, "BOOMER! Help! It's got me fucking pinned!"

As Rhodes, Mac, and Rikter bolted into the room, they immediately spotted their trapped comrade struggling to get out from under the bookcase. Not wanting to see York's brains under the boot of his enemy, Rhodes quickly advised both Mac and Rikter to "shoot that ugly motherfucker!"

As the soldiers began distracting the Boomer with flashing muzzles and hot lead, Lt. Rhodes rushed over to York, lifting the bookshelf just high enough to free the man, giving York time to scramble for his lancer and assume a firing line with the rest of the team.

"Fuck me, why isn't he going down?!" York asked as he backed into the corner firing non-stop.

"Don't know, this one's built tougher than most I've seen!" Rhodes hollered back.

Suddenly, a load pop was heard as the Boomer's face rocketed off of its skull and slammed against the wall next to Rhodes.

"I don't know, Rhodey. He ain't that tough," A familiar voice was heard over the comm, as a fellow Gear adorned in a full Black Onyx Guard uniform stepped into the room and onto the Boomer's corpse while brandishing shiny black gnasher. "But let me know if he gets back up."

"Cato! Holy shit, brother! Is that you?!" The lieutenant responded with genuine enthusiasm in his voice.

"In the half-cooked flesh, yeah," Cato stepped off the Boomer, approached his old friend, and greeted him with a firm brotherly handshake.

"How'd you get here? I thought Hoffman reassigned you after the accident?"

"I heavily insisted I be a part of this operation given that Omega needed the experience. After getting confirmation last minute, I hitched a ride on a sweet girl named Marilyn, and I've been covering your asses the entire way. By the way, tell Farris that was some shitty driving back there."

"I'll let you tell her yourself," Waylan happily smirked.

Spotting the Sergeant over Mac's shoulder, Cato said, "Rikter, you're looking as devilish as ever. Never lose the goggles, man. They do wonders for your image." Shifting his attention to Mac, Cato nudged his head in Rikter's direction and said, "You know, I don't think I've ever seen this man's eyes? If I didn't know any better, I'd guess they're just solid black."

Realizing there's to be some confusion, Waylan decided to introduce his friend, "Mac, York, this is Cpl. Cato Reyes. He's been with Omega-Two for a long time now. He's practically a legend among our squad. I suggest you guys get acquainted."

Mac raised on hand in greeting "Corporal MacNamara." He introduced himself "You look like the goddamned Grim Reaper of Grubs." Mac turned to Rikter, before remembering he fucking hated him, then turned to York "When the fuck do I get spook gear? I'm a goddamned Corporal, too."

Mac eyeballed the Grim Reaper's slick black gear hungrily. You didn't see Onyx Guard anymore. It unnerved him, Prescott didn't care about civilians enough to warn them about a goddamned space laser but he transferred a spook to a rookie-training squad?

That, or it was a lie. A cover to get Spec Ops some ground support for a clandestine mission. Some Op no one knew about, and Omega-Two was the cover. Maybe the whole damn Hollow Storm was a cover. Some excuse for this one guy to-- no. There were more important things to focus on. Things like:

"Seriously, goddamn, can we trade guns? Do you guys see this shit? Why does he get cooler gear? Life ain't fair, Yorkie!"

After a few moments of mumbled complaint, Mac sighed and glanced downwards. "Oh shit!" He delightfully exclaimed. While the other Gears carried on introductions and chatter around him, Mac hefted the Boomer over onto it's back, and with several grunts of exertion, worked the Boomshot out of its hands. "Hello, beautiful, what's your name?" He set the heavy gun next to him, and found the Boomers Ammo belt.

Within a few moments, Mac had cut the belt of explosive ammo free and tied it to hang loosely from his own bandolier. He hefted the Boomshot onto his back along with his Mk. 2, switching his Gnasher yo his hands. He shifted and bounced uncomfortably under the weight before he was accustomed to it. He noted a small amount of staring.

"Rikter, you're looking as devilish as ever. Never lose the goggles, man. They do wonders for your image," Cato said as Rikter pushed Mac aside so he could saunter on up to his old friend and shake his hand.

"Hey, if I took these goggles off, the war would be over in a goddamn day, and then where would we be? Ha!" Rikter joked before releasing his friend's hand.

When Mac walked over to the dead boomer and took the grub weapon, the sergeant exclaimed, "Ah, fuckin' shit! Beat me to it. That right there is a gun for badasses, so if you don't do some badass shit with it, I'm going to have to confiscate it. Better yet, you give me her right now and we're square on that bet!"

Mac looked at Rikter like he had lost his goddamned mind, hiking one of his eyebrow up as high as he could "the last thing I'm doing is putting a grenade launcher on the same soldier as the flamethrower. Do you want to explode?" Jaden shook his head in disbelief and made his way over to the wounded Gear, crouching beside him as the Medics worked their magic.

"F-f-family?" Fillmore stuttered out, the pain having sent his body shuddering in a panicked sweat.

"Easy now," PFC. Evans whispered as he calmly injected with Fillmore with a clear liquid, "Should help alleviate the pain immensely."

"Yeah, yeah. I, uh, I got two daughters. Clair and Celina. And my wife, Vera. I have a... I have a photo of them in my pouch here," Fillmore tapped his fingers against a leather pouch on his chest, "Can you get it for me? I don't wanna get it bloody."

Mac relieved the pouch of the photo, kneeling beside his wounded companion, and holding the picture to where they could both see. "You've got a beautiful family, Fillmore. My wife would sooner glare daggers in me than let me get picture of her. Tell me about, man. How old are your little girls?"

"They're both eleven. Twins. Vera and I... I... I guess we weren't really thinking this war go on for so goddamn long. Can't help but wonder sometimes, especially now, if we made mistake bringing them into a world like this? You know, a world where the monster under your bed is actually something you have to worry about," Fillmore responded, the medication already beginning to take effect on his nervous system.

As Evans held Fillmore's head steady, SSgt. Farris took hold of the pliers and cautiously began plucking out the shrapnel bits.

"That's what we're for," Mac said, laying a reassuring hand on Fillmore's shoulder, trying not to watch too closely "Guys like you me, our job is finding those monsters and blasting them to hell so our families are safe. There going to build fucking statues of us. They'll tell your kids 'That was your dad. He fought the monsters.' And your kids are gonna think you're a goddamned hero. Ain't no mistake. You got an opportunity to fight for 'em. As a man."

Mac went to look Fillmore in the eye and swallowed hard as he watched a bit of shrapnel be pried out of his face. "Look, I'm going to save you the bullshit. I'm gonna be pissed if you die. I might have kids one day of my own, and I'm going to need another dad to sit next to and drink a beer at a shitty barbeque some day in the future, and you've gotta be there. So you're going to make it, kill some grubs, and we're going to eat some steak and admire our statues and think about the good old days while our wife's nag us. Sound good?"

Fillmore chuckled, "Shit, man, did you work in propaganda before this? A statue sounds real fucking sweet. Helluva motivator, I'll give you that. Say, man, where did yo-"

Fillmore suddenly let out a sharp yelp as Nila pried the metal shard out of his skull. "Fuck! You goddamn grubfuckers!"

"Hey, try to be nice, will ya, love?" Nila replied, keeping a cool head as she signaled Evans to take off his helmet.

"Thought the medicine was supposed to help with the pain," Fillmore said.

"It can only do so much. Sorry," Evans informed the private. As he slid the soldier's helmet off, revealing Fillmore's jet black hair, a scarred chin, one beautiful crystal blue eye and a ghastly bleeding mess in the remains of his other eye. "Bad news, you're blind."

"Oh, no shit? I didn't realize! Great diagnoses, doc!" Fillmore sarcastically replied in a bitter tone.

"Good news, we don't have to remove what's left. So, it should heal up enough that we won't have to leave a crater in your skull," Evans replied, shrugging off Fillmore's hostile attitude.

"That's strangely kinda nice to hear. Now what?"

"Now, we disinfect the wound, patch you up, and think about your new nickname. Mac, you got anything good for him?" SSgt. Farris answered.